If You Had Completed Me
by SherlockedUntilDeath
Summary: "And yet there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable memory." Living is painful, though being dead is more challenging. POST THE REICHENBACH FALL.


Living is painful, though dying is more challenging. But the most complex and intricate way of existing is to live as if you are dead. Few people have tried, but the late Sherlock Holmes was one of those talented individuals. Talented indeed, because faking your own death is surprisingly difficult. Being permanently dead is even more problematical.

Sherlock Holmes slowly and reluctantly opened his grey eyes. He curled up on his side, the insubstantial dirty terrain cold against his face. The ground he was slumbering on had been rather wet and cold, and as he got up to face the dull and grey Tuesday when our story begins, he sensed his empty stomach growl with hunger. He was starving, literally, and hadn't eaten anything for days. But even more importantly, according to Sherlock, was the fact that he hadn't solved a case for months. He was beyond bored and longed for a distraction, the drugs he frequently had been taking had gotten harder to buy or find the latest couple of days. He yawned and thoughtfully glanced up at the ceiling of the bridge he had slept under the very night before. Suddenly, he was looking into another person's eyes. They had a familiar shade of brown, and the expression in them made Sherlock's heart skip a beat. It was her, obviously. The woman. Irene Adler. Her smile reminded him of the last time they had encountered, or to be more precise, when they had taken farewell in a small village outside Karachi. The memory would make Sherlock blush if the situation not had been so bizarre. They stared at each other wordlessly for a brief moment. She was the one who chose to break the tense silence.

"Mr. Holmes. I've been looking for you." She admitted and braided her small and corpse white hands together.

"Unfortunately, I'm dead." He simply stated and got up from his position on the yet wet ground, facing the acquainted woman properly. He avoided meeting her gaze.

"Don't play stupid, dear. It has never suited you well."

"What do you want?" Sherlock kept his voice cold and unemotional, he could never trust or rely on an individual who knew the truth about his death. Especially not if that person was Irene Adler.

"No, no dear. I'm here to give you what you desire the most. What do you want most in the entire world?" Sherlock found that it probably was a rhetorical question, and didn't bother to answer it. "I have a case for you." She confessed. Sherlock swallowed his pride and didn't care about hiding his excitement when she had uttered the sentence, their glances met and an electric impulse shot through Sherlock's entire body as her eyes made him remember an old sentiment.

"What?" He asked, and a spark that Irene always associated with new problems and cases lit up his eyes. He realised too late that he had forgotten himself and let go of his impassive defense. On the spur of the moment, Irene was everywhere, her remarkable scent embracing Sherlock and her coruscating eyes seeking his once more. In the exact second when their lips met did Sherlock flinch away, creating a distance between the two of them. He was suddenly filled with hate and fear. He hated Irene Adler for making him _feel _likeany mortal human-being, and was afraid of himself, simply because he never had experienced sentiments or emotions before. When he looked into her eyes (so similar to his own), he could sense that nothing had changed. They were still hopelessly guided by their feelings for each other. Though, this time he would ignore any sentiments that tried to disturb his intellect while thinking, working or reasoning. The case was more important than her and Sherlock urgently tried to convince himself that all that mattered to him was the work as a consulting detective. In the second when they stared at each other, clearly disgusted with themselves because of the hypothetical feelings they held for each other, Irene seemed more human than ever before. She didn't look _hurt,_ but her face beamed with disappointment and energetic rage. She seemed so alive, showing her true and vehement nature that made Sherlock even wanting her more. Sherlock figured that she perhaps also felt weak and afraid of the emotional and sexual tension between the two of them and didn't know how to handle it. It made her feel powerless, or as powerless as a dominatrix possibly could be. She suddenly took control over her face-features and composed her expression into a cruel grimace. He remained silent, waiting for her to continue the conversation. However, she didn't. Irene handed over a neatly folded envelope with his name on. She innocently kissed his cheek and determinedly turned around, walking out in the sun that effortlessly shone brightly, although not reaching the man still standing under the little bridge. In the sunlight, Sherlock could see that Irene clearly had changed physically since the last time they had met. He scrutinized her haggard and woe-begun appearance, she had lost weight she didn't need to lose, her hair had lost its unique ebony colour and her skin didn't seem to shimmer as much as it had done before. She looked pale, tired, and visibly older than a year ago.

"Goodbye Mr. Holmes."

"I haven't said that I'm taking the case." He pointed out, without sounding convinced in the slightest. Irene snorted.

"Like you have a choice. Don't fool yourself, you see, we're _both_ high-functional sociopaths." She susurrated and teasingly smirked in a, to Sherlock, very familiar way. And with that cryptic sentence did Irene Adler leave Sherlock Holmes's temporary accommodation (well, a bridge is an accommodation), though Sherlock knew that they would meet again, in this or another life.

**AN: So I had a dream about Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler (Yeah, I'm obsessed) and I decided to write it down. It's pretty long; it will be about twelve chapters. Some bits are a little weird, obviously because it's a dream, but I think it's going to be great, simply because the dream was epic, you're going to love the end. Remember to review! It's really, really important to me. **


End file.
